


The Pajama Game

by Missy



Category: The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: Bonding, Cuddling & Snuggling, Experimentation, F/F, First Kiss, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Sleepovers, Teenage Awkwardness, Television Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-12 04:51:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19221943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Slumber parties were so five years ago, but Claire has no idea how else to bond with Allison.





	The Pajama Game

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Breakfast Club, The (1985), Allison/Claire, Smoking Weed Together

Sleepovers are so five years ago. Claire knows this, and knows it’s a ridiculous thing to suggest someone on an entirely different social level from her – someone who likes Bauhaus and the Cure and things that Claire can’t even fathom liking , things she hadn’t heard of before they did detention together. But she still makes plans. Still buys popcorn and a warm blanket and an extra sleeping bag. 

And holds onto her reservations by avoiding Allison until it’s the last minute and cannot be helped. Because, as she predicted, she squints in confusion at the carefully-created slip of pink paper containing Allison’s address and the instructions to be there at 6 sharp so she can start the movie on time.

“Do you really want me there?” Allison asks. She turns the invitation over in her palm and Allison wonders if she’s going to shove it in her mouth and eat it. Claire still didn’t know her fully; the girl might be capable of absolutely anything. 

“Yeah, that’s why I invited you over. And don’t worry –no one else is coming.” Not even her other close girlfriends, she would never do something that cruel or put that much pressure on Allison without warning. Claire posted her foot back against the nearest locker, and tried to look cool – fix her body into the kind of pose Bender would take. Do you want me to promise not to steal anything?” asked Allison, and there it was again, that look of suspicion in her eyes. 

“I trust you, okay?” Claire says. Her hands brush along Allison’s knuckles, a gesture of reassurance. She doesn’t bark or snap. She isn’t the cleaned-up, angelic-looking princess Claire had fashioned in the ladies’ room at Shermer for Andy’s consumption – with her hair back, her eyes still snapped like sparks as she took in Claire’s face. 

“I don’t give a fuck who you trust,” she said. Claire stood there, rooted to the spot, as Allison pushed away from her, walked away, an angry tread that made her wince.

*** 

Claire didn’t approach Allison. Allison, instead, found her waiting in the lunch line and handed her back the invitation, carefully marked with a phone number. Claire squinted at it. She could have sworn that this was the number for the phone book down by the library. Her expression read ‘I’ve decided that you need me.’ More than anything else to Claire, but she was glad Allison wanted to come.

“Do you need me to bring anything?” Allison asked.

Claire instantly said, “You can borrow pajamas from me, and I’ve got a spare blanket. We’ll have foods, and I’ll go to the video store…”

“Okay, so no,” Allison said. “I’ll try to think of something. I’ll get there on time. Promise.”

There was dignity in Allison’s expression – always had been. That was what made Claire admire her. More and more and more, these days.

The feelings she was experiencing would be alarming, if she wasn’t so sure of Allison.

*** 

She did show up on time – with a backpack strapped over her shoulder. She bared her teeth and grinned. “So you get HBO?”

“And Cinemax,” she offered too quickly. “Want to go to the video store?” 

“Okay. Where’s your room?”

“First on the right.” And Claire grabbed her purse, allowing Allison the brief trust of being. 

“I was going to hook you up,” she whispered in Claire’s ear as they headed out to her little sports car.

“I don’t need a hook up,” Claire mumbled. Well, she mostly had Bender helping her get pot whenever she needed something to take the stress off. She only smoked outside, or when her parents were gone.

“Well there goes my contribution to the party,:” Allison complained. But she was grinning. “Let me pay for the videos. I have three bucks left in my pocket…”

Claire internally winced. Instantly reminded of the financial gulf between them, she said, “how about we split on that and some pizza? Then we can go home and have fun.”

“Aren’t your parents supposed to be home soon?” The underlying question being _would your parents approve of you hanging out with me?_

“Allison, they know about this sleepover,” she said. “And it’s not as if they care about what I do.”

Allison shrugged. The statement was relatable to her – they’d been through it. Words weren’t necessary.

*** 

One trip to the outside world later and they were on Allison’s couch – Allison in her pink Laura Ashley pajamas, Allison in worn bright green boxers and a washed-out Violent Femmes teeshirt. They had pizza, Chips Ahoy, M&Ms and popcorn with Pepsi to wash it all down as they passed a joint back and forth and switched between tv and the tapes they’d rented.

By the time midnight hit, they’d watched Girls Just Want to Have Fun and M, followed immediately by Lisztomania and Ferris Buller’s Day Off, all of which was a hell of a mind bender when you were queasy from snack food yet hungry and dazed from the pot. Allison watched the latter with intense delight, as if the universe were opening up to her. Allison plugged Tommy into the VCR, and by the time Nora had experienced love and loss during the Blitz Claire was openly weeping. 

“Are you crying over Ann-Margaret?” asked Allison.

“It’s fucking sad, okay? She lost her husband, she’s pregnant and alone and stuck working in a bomb factory. And in that outfit!”

Allison awkwardly wrapped her arms around Claire. The embrace was so nice, and so warm, and for some reason it killed off her crying, stopped off the tears. And it was that simple to take that moment and make it bigger – that easy to press her lips against Allison’s. For a long moment they just sat there – young and stupid, clinging to each other like lift rafts. 

Allison gave her a bleary smile. “That was the first time I’ve ever used my body to tell the truth,” she said, and sank into Claire’s shoulder, where she perched until their highs wore off.


End file.
